


get me out of my mind

by mad_marquise



Series: sabbatical [2]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Comfort, Episode Related, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 03:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18175475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_marquise/pseuds/mad_marquise
Summary: Sergeant Voight shows up at Kevin's door in the evening with a smile and a six pack of Coors.





	get me out of my mind

**Author's Note:**

> expanding on my fic 'sabbatical' with one-shots about Hank hooking up with each member of the team. read sabbatical first it's mad short! not that this fic or the future ones I got planned are #deep but it'll complete the experience if you read the other fic first. 
> 
> also, this is loosely related to episode 5x05, where Hank goes to check in with Kevin after all the shit with that dark web auction goes down.
> 
> cheers y'all

After one of the longest work days of Kevin’s life, Sergeant Voight shows up at his door that evening with a smile and a six pack of Coors. Kevin wants to decline and keep wallowing. He wants free drinks a little more, though, so he lets Voight in, and they sit down around the coffee table.

They sip and talk idly about nothing and everything. A bit buzzed, Kevin tries to focus on the conversation, on the soothing gravel of his boss’ voice. But his brain keeps flipping through every crazy thing he's dealt with on and off the field over the past few days, months, years. Cases and life drama compound into some wild clipshow in his head.

He’s so... out of it.

"Hey," Voight says after they're both two beers deep. He gives him a sidelong glance. "Take your mind off things?"    
  
Kevin's anxious and angry and horny all at once, which is why he's saying  _ yeah  _ before he really thinks it over. It's not a dangerous answer. Voight's a piece of work, but he's never forced this thing, this  _ arrangement _ , on him or anyone else in Intelligence. But it's in Kevin's nature to reexamine and reassess and triple check, so it feels like things are going too fast when Voight leisurely sets his beer on the table, stands above Kevin, and bends down to brush a kiss on his forehead.   
  
Then again, not going with his gut instinct is what got his siblings almost killed. Kevin mentally replays all the mistakes he's made: Not letting Jordan walk instead of forcing him to testify against that dope pusher. Not killing the dealer's ass when Voight prompted him. Not getting the full story from Jordan about Vinessa's assault instead of expecting Vinessa to come clean while she was having a damn breakdown. Not listening to his Auntie in Texas the first time years ago when she called and told him to  _ get them kids down here, you can't handle them alone right now --  _ __  
  
"See, this is exactly why you need this." Voight sounds amused. Shit, Kevin didn't even notice him get on the floor. He puts his beer on the side table and spreads his legs absently for him to kneel between.    
  
"Sorry, Sarge," he murmurs, watching Voight undo his fly, pop the button on his boxers.    
  
All he gets is a grunt in affirmative before Voight gets his mouth on him.   
  
Head from Voight is always slow and brutal, all careful sweep of tongue and glide of lips. Until it's not, and he's jacking Kevin off wet and rapid-paced and Kevin's groaning low in his throat, deep in his chest, and fisting his hands in the afghan slung across the top of the couch.   
  
When Voight makes him come, it catches him off-guard every time. He'll be in this headspace that's floaty, slightly sharp, riding the fast rhythm of the strokes, warm feeling building low in his groin, and then all of a sudden his orgasm rips hot through him and he's gasping as Voight's mouth is back around him, swallowing everything down with ease.

Kevin's mind is pleasantly blank when Sergeant Voight sits back on his haunches and swipes a hand across his mouth.

His stomach flips at the sight.

“Good?”

“Yeah.” Kevin exhales. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Suddenly bone-tired, he lets Voight tuck him back into his pants and drape the afghan over him.

Voight stands. “I think we tend to forget that you all are like soldiers out there.” He leans to kiss Kevin's forehead once more. “You got trauma, stress.” His lips brush Kevin's skin as he talks. “That's a hell of a lot to go through.”

“It is,” Kevin replies. God, he can barely keep his eyes open.

“Hey, don't fight it.” Voight laughs softly, straightening up. “Go to sleep. I'll lock up before I leave.”

“Aiight, I hear you,” Kevin murmurs, letting his eyes fall shut. “See you tomorrow?”

“Actually, I think I'm seeing Halstead tomorrow,” Voight says, inflection low and suggestive. “But yes, I will see you at work tomorrow.”

_ How the fuck did I luck out with this job, _ Kevin thinks, nodding off as his sergeant's saying  _ take care of yourself. _

 


End file.
